


meteorites, caught in our gravity

by AnimeDomo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, First Kiss, M/M, Oikawa Tooru Likes Outer Space, Oikawa Tooru is a Nerd, Space Metaphors, Stargazing, light existentialism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeDomo/pseuds/AnimeDomo
Summary: "There was a poetic beauty in watching their burning decent, their very beings – every spec and atom that had converged in space to create its existence – spent by their travel."Tooru just wanted to star gaze on his parent's roof at 2am with his best friend.





	meteorites, caught in our gravity

**Author's Note:**

> I always told my best friend that if someone asked me to go stargazing as a date, I'd marry them lmao
> 
> The playlist I listened to while writing; https:// www . youtube . com / watch?v=FOOhaOQxUeQ

Oikawa Tooru was seven years old when he saw his first shooting star – he never forgot the sight; the beauty of watching it cross the stars in a streak of white in the summer night sky. It was only there for a moment, an anomaly among Oikawa's childhood memories, before it blipped out of existence and left the young boy slacked jawed and gazing at the sky as though the universe itself had just opened up before him.

In some ways, it had.

It wasn't until years later that he learned they were actually meteorites, bits of dust and debris rocketing through the earth's atmosphere under gravity's inescapable pull, but the new information never dulled the brilliance of his wonderment. There was a poetic beauty in watching their burning decent, their very beings – every spec and atom that had converged in space to create its existence – spent by their travel.

People-watching became a game of his adolescence, he and his friends guessing a stranger's story for a bet of ramen or pocket change, and the differences between any two human beings was staggering and interestingly wide. But Oikawa Tooru had found what tied them to one another – what evened the playing ground of human existence; no one ever seemed to look up.

The business man in his clean-pressed suit catching the last train, the wide-eyed school kids returning home from clubs, the shift workers with violaceous crescents beneath their tired eyes, moms and dads corralling their children on errands with apologetic smiles – they were all so fixated on the world that had erected in their direct line of sight that they never dared gaze beyond what had been put in front of them. Sometimes the thought made Tooru feel painfully alone.

The sky was perfect tonight; a beautiful dark velvet that contrasted every little white dot of a distant celestial body. Hajime hadn't protested too much when Tooru goaded him into sneaking out onto the roof via window with an armful of blankets and pillows. They laid out the old ratty comforters on top of the shingles and settled down, only a foot away from one another. Tooru's heart felt ready to burst, imagining how far away the rest of the known universe lay in the gods' schema – how impossibly small his own existence was within it all even though he felt as though he could reach out an capture a dwarf star in his palm right there on his parent's rooftop.

Tooru expected Hajime to be ignoring him, or to already have fallen asleep in the quiet spring night in suburbia, but turned his head to realize that Hajime had been staring at him – expression strangely serene as he watched Tooru stargaze.

“What?” Tooru suddenly felt bashful. He'd known Hajime nearly his whole life but he could never remember his friend gazing at him in such a way. It felt incredibly intimate, as if he'd been caught doing something more private than just watching the spring constellations.

“Is this why you're always tired at school?” Hajime's tone was almost accusatory, but still as gentle as the expression in his eyes. He appeared to be fighting down a grin.

“Maybe,” Tooru sing-songed, turning away again. His face felt warm. Something within his chest had tightened when their eyes had met, something that felt so good it was almost painful and made him fidget where he lay. The feeling didn't stop with the break in eye contact.

“You should sleep more.” It sounded like Hajime had turned on his side. Was he facing Tooru? He sounded closer than before. Tooru gulped, hoping the sound wasn't too audible. He wasn't sure why but he felt anxious.

“I try. When my insomnia flares up I usually come out here, though. It's calming. And sometimes I can catch a meteorite. The forecast said there should be some tonight, but I don't think we'll be able to see them out here this close to the city.”

He felt like he was rambling then. He told himself to stop, but the silence was pressing even without him filling it up with words. It had to be near 2am. All the houses on Tooru's street were dark and everything was as still as stagnant water in the little gated community Tooru's parents had chosen. His heart was racing.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.”

“Hm.”

“Do you believe in aliens?” Tooru turned his head again and found that Hajime had closed his eyes, but he was indeed turned to face Tooru. His nose scrunched a little as he thought and it made Tooru smile. When had little, gruff Iwa-chan become cute? Or had Tooru been the one missing things with his eyes always on the sky?

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“There's no way the universe is as big as it is, and considering all that's left to discover beyond what we know is there, and there be absolutely no other form of life – even just some weird space amoeba. But if you're talking about the little green men with huge-ass heads in those dumb American movies you always make me watch, then no. That's just stupid.”

“So what you're saying is, you do believe in aliens?” Tooru's fond smile stretched into a grin. He may have thought the world of Iwaizumi Hajime, but he would never pass up an opportunity to poke fun at him.

Hajime had opened his eyes to look at Tooru as he spoke, and he took the opportunity now to roll them at his best friend. “Yes,” he droned, “I guess I believe in aliens.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Tooru.” Hajime deadpanned.

Tooru was so startled at hearing his first name that he forgot whatever witty retort he'd prepared. They'd done this song and dance a million times, picking at each other and fighting over trivial disagreements for fun, but this was new territory. All he was aware of was the heavy, quick-paced beating of his heart in his chest and the fact that Hajime was still gazing at him with an exasperated fondness, as though Tooru – as though this moment – was something precious.  
“I understand, though.”

Tooru jumped a little at Hajime's soft voice, meeting his eyes again. He looked like he'd fall asleep any minute. Tooru felt like he'd never sleep again, felt as though a star was forming in his chest or perhaps a galaxy was collapsing and dragging him down with it's powerful gravity. Whatever it was, he was awake and alive and thrumming with something he couldn't name as he gazed at his best friend smiling up at him from his childhood TMNT blanket on his parent's roof under the stars on a Friday night. Hajime smiled gently and Tooru felt like he could run a mile, or jump to the moon.

“It's peaceful out here. Under the stars.” Hajime explained, answering a question Tooru hadn't even been able to get out. He'd always done that – been able to read Tooru forwards and backwards like a classic novella. Tooru settled a little closer, narrowing the gap between them to only a span of inches. Hajime didn't seem phased by the movement.

“It's kinda how I'm keeping calm with everything that's happening. Losing to Karasuno, graduating, choosing a college... moving away from my best friend. Looking at the stars reminds me how small I am, how insignificant all my problems really are. It makes me feel like nothing really matters so... I get to choose for myself what matters to me, and know that it'll work out okay, you know? It's relaxing knowing that the universe doesn't care about my paper deadlines or graduation status or if I'm having a good hair day.”

Hajime huffed a little laugh, eyes closed still.

“What?” Tooru pouted. He watched Hajime open his eyes again just enough to meet his gaze.

“You said 'moving away from my best friend' as if you'll ever be rid of me.” Hajime's smile was teasing, and it was infectious. Tooru's cheeks hurt with how hard he was grinning and subtly closed another inch of the gap.

“Maybe I want to be rid of you, maybe that's the whole goal. You're awful mean to me.”

“Yeah, but then who would watch your dumb alien movies with you or make you soup when you're sick and being whiny.” Tooru had begun shivering and Hajime had taken the opportunity to grab the edge of the blanket and pull it over them as he spoke, encasing them both in a small cocoon. Tooru didn't protest, wouldn't have dreamed of it, but now he shook for a whole new reason. There was no space between them, their foreheads touching and Hajime's warm breath fanning over Tooru's cheek. His eyes were closed again. Hajime looked perfectly at ease, as if he hadn't just completely unbalanced eighteen years of friendship and threw them in the middle of entirely new territory. 

Tooru's eyes slid away to study the north star, seek out the big dipper – anything to quell the shaking in his hands and stop himself from counting the nearly invisible freckles across Hajime's high cheek bones. They were impossible to spot against his dark complexion from any normal distance. Tooru remembered Hajime telling him how insecure he was about his appearance when they were younger – about his choppy hair and wide nose and stocky stature. All Tooru could think about now, however, was how handsome he was, relaxed and serene and bathed in moonlight in Tooru's arms.

“So nothing really matters, huh?” Hajime's voice was soft and deep and it sent a shiver down his spine. Tooru had to take a deep, controlled breath.

“I think we have the choice.” Tooru continued. Hajime was looking at him again, silently urging him on. All of Tooru's usual confidence had dissipated under that stare, under the stars and the Milky Way galaxy overhead. None of his usual pomp or appearance mattered here, with his best friend. Hajime knew him, could dissect him with a look alone, and the thought made Tooru feel almost as free as he did on the nights he stayed up till 4am, imaging what was beyond the clouds and dying stars above him. Gazing into Hajime's eyes gave him the same high he felt when he studied the sky. “We have the choice of what is truly important to us. We can choose to live, and do what we want – what scares us.”

Tooru wasn't even sure he was making sense anymore, he wasn't quite listening to his own words. He didn't mean to ramble, truly, but between the deep green of Hajime's eyes and the teasing curl of his lips, he got a little lost.

“What is it that you want to do, that scares you so badly, that you have to consult the known universe for encouragement?” Hajime asked.

Tooru couldn't answer – he wouldn't know what to say, anyway. He fought so hard to plan things out – volleyball plays, school assignments and essays, applications – he stopped relying on emotion as a guide. But how could his gut instinct and the stars all steer him wrong? How could he look into Hajime's eyes, feel the pull of a collapsing galaxy, and not know that the universe was guiding him home?

Hajime looked as though he was still awaiting an answer, so Tooru gave him one – he leaned forward to close the gap, and it didn't take much. Just the upwards tilt of his chin and suddenly the space that had been between them for 18 years vanished with the soft press of their mouths meeting. Hajime's top lip was between Tooru's, returning the slight pressure, both boys holding impossibly still as though the moment would shatter and it would make it less real. Tooru sighed through his nose and pulled back just enough to look Hajime in the eye. His expression was something no class could teach him to read or decipher. All Tooru knew was that if there were stars where his heart should be, their cores had just collapsed.

Hajime drew one arm around Tooru, sliding up his back to tangle in the messy waves and draw him close again. His hold was just tight enough to make Tooru's eyes slide closed. They drew together in another kiss – still hesitant, still soft. But there was something lurking just beneath the surface of their gentle first touches. They'd caught one another in their gravitational pull – the collision was inevitable, Tooru realized, breathing in the warm puffs of Hajime's breath – but he wanted more. If his and Hajime's path were coming to a head, if he was truly free to make his own choices on this stupid floating rock in space, he wanted to push onward.

His blood was thrumming, his body shaking with pent-up energy instead of nerves, and he allowed it to guide his own hand to Hajime's jaw and turn his head to draw him closer again. He settled his leg over Hajime's hip, their bodies pressed together line by line. They both inhaled deeply, unwilling to break apart again, and surged forward like waves crashing into each other. Tooru's hands framed Hajime's face, thumbs tracing the strong structure of his face and his spine shaking with Hajime's lips parted. 

He let Hajime guide him, body impossibly warm with nerves and creeping excitement as their tongues met then danced apart, only to meet again moments later. Tooru carded one hand through Hajime's short hair, tightening his hold involuntarily as Hajime's own hand slid down his side and ever so slightly under the band of his hoodie. It was a small intimate gesture, but it made him jump all the same. The slight pull on his hair drug a low groan from deep in Hajime's chest and the sound had Tooru grasping Hajime by the shoulders and pulling him down on top of him so they were no longer side by side, but Hajime's forearms were pressed into the blanket beside Tooru's head.

Hajime pulled away, blinking at Tooru owlishly in what he took to be surprise. Tooru shifted the leg that hadn't been over Hajime's hip so that the darker haired boy was settled between Tooru's legs. Even with nothing but moonlight and two street lights to see by, Tooru could see the red blossoming under Hajime's skin. With the waxing gibbous and Orion visible behind him, embarrassment and happiness plain on his face, Tooru couldn't help but think that Hajime was more than just handsome – he was ethereal, beautiful, breath-taking.

He couldn't stop himself from leaning up, right hand gently grazing the back of Hajime's neck as they met in one more gentle kiss – one that reminded Tooru of quotes about stardust and soul mates. The two grinned at one another before they'd even parted, dissolving into good-natured laughter as Tooru looped his arms around Hajime's neck.

Hajime leaned in to whisper in Tooru's ear, still laughing, “So stargazing turns you on, got it.”

Tooru laughed harder, punching Hajime's arm as the broader boy almost fell forward on top of him. Tooru still felt like he was flying, felt as though he could soar through space, as he leaned forward to press his lips against Hajime's shoulder and watch a small white blaze streak through the sky for mere seconds before disappearing over the horizon. But Tooru was okay with watching it go – he was content where he was.


End file.
